


Someone, Somewhere

by ZombieliciousXIII



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (I think it's a happy ending, 1872 (Marvel), Accidental Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers Family, Bittersweet Ending, Blacksmith Tony Stark, Domestic Avengers, Earth-51920, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Marvel 616/MCU Crossover, Multiverse, Not Canon Compliant, Platonic Kissing, Sheriff Steve Rogers, Steve Loves Tony in 'Verse, Superfamily (Marvel), Timely (New Mexico) (Marvel), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but I'm just covering my bases)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:33:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22175608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieliciousXIII/pseuds/ZombieliciousXIII
Summary: “Tony?” Fuck, this was bad, he shouldn’t have spoken— he sees the man freeze,shit; but how could Steve just donothingwith Tonyright therecrying? How could henotsplinter the wood beneath his fingers as he gripped the doorframe with the need to hold his—“St...Steve?” There is somewhere between speaking and his internal panic that Tony - was it Tony? - had stood and turned to face him. “Is it really you?”~~~~~Or: Steve Rogers accidentally gets sent to 'verse!Earth-51920 and finds Blacksmith!Tony Stark after the events in the town square with Fisk and his gang and helps him grieve.(It helps to have read the comic 1872, but it's not actually mandatory)
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	Someone, Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this story, I thought it up whilst super high and watching Hot Fuzz; I always wanted to do a Western AU (especially after reading Marvel’s 1872), but could never decide on what to do, and somehow watching Danny and Nicholas triggered this idea - don’t ask me how, it’s a strange answer haha!
> 
> WARNING: HEAVY SPOILER ALERT FOR MARVEL'S 1872 COMIC!  
> (If you haven't read it, stop here and check it out, it's great! If you don't care about spoilers, enjoy!)
> 
> Enjoy!  
> xxoxoo

If you asked him how it happened, Steve honestly wouldn’t have an answer for you; one minute he’d been entering Tony’s lab to come get their resident Tin Can for dinner, then heard a yell and a bang, and the next thing Steve knew he was stood in the middle of a desert. Honestly? Not his strangest Friday night. Steve reaches into his pocket to retrieve his StarkPhone, where ever the hell he was Steve knew he should be able to make an outgoing call, Tony made damn sure none of his phones would ever lose service.

“Damnit Tony, I leave you alone for a _two days_ and you build a teleporting machine-” Steve’s words die off when he sees... _no bars, that’s...strange_. “Okay, not the end of the world,” Steve swipes down on the screen to reveal the shortcut menu options, taps the icon to send out the Avengers distress beacon, and knew he’d just have to bide his time until the team (if not Tony himself) picked up on the signal.

This wasn’t Steve Rogers is first rodeo.

For all that people thought he’d hate electronics, Steve was actually a quick learner and loved tablets especially. _‘Very convenient doohickies’,_ he’d told Tony early in their friendship, only for Stark to nearly pop a blood vessel laughing - Steve still smiles at the memory of the whimsical sound of a genuine Tony Stark laugh. However, it seemed that where ever Steve had been teleported was far away enough - _am I even on the same planet? -_ to beat StarkTech (something Tony must feel incensed about), but Steve wasn’t known as ‘the man with the plan’ for nothing; he’d need food, shelter, and somewhere warm and safe to wait until Tony found him. Mentally cataloging his current attire - _dress pants, button up, belt, loafers, boxer-briefs, and undershirt; Avengers ID, StarkWatch (one of a kind)_ \- and his surroundings - _currently on low ground, need to find higher ground to establish a clear vantage point._ Steve’s training kicks in, and he gets to work.

He was in the middle of the desert but upon closer look, Steve realizes where ever he’d been teleported to was by a long stretch of dry road, and behind him the ground elevated indicating a kind of hill. Steve turns to face the hill and decides to climb it and see which end of the route he should hike for. The ground wasn’t very steep by any means, more like a rapid decline off the side of another level; which proved to be true once Steve pulled himself over the side of the edge, not too far ahead of him lay shrubbery likely to deter anyone from going the way he’d come up. Getting his feet on solid ground, Steve remains crouched, and sticks to the shadows as he creeps forward. It looked like a kind of backyard, though the grass had clearly seen better days, overgrown and parched of any color or life. It seemed a little dangerous, having a backyard (no matter how uncared for) right by what was basically a cliff; it was reckless, but Tony had a mansion off the side of a cliff too in Malibu, so who was he to judge?

 _Is there something I missed about needing a house by the literal edge of a mountain?_ If there was, Steve’s pretty sure he missed that memo.

 _Focus,_ Steve reprimands and moves to stay away from the brittle grass, lest someone hear him approaching, and continues forward while kept safe in a cloak of darkness.

The silhouette of a building cut itself out in inky darkness against the near black-blue of the starry sky, the moon unable to fully cut through the clouds, leaving everythingbeneath _just_ barely blind. However, Steve’s heightened senses gave him a slight advantage - contrary to popular belief (mainly Clint and Scott’s), he didn’t see like Terminator or RoboCop, it was more like...everything was _sharper_ , and whatever his eyes couldn’t perceive his other senses did. The building seemed larger than a regular house, which either meant a very rich owner (meaning security) or multiple owners living together (higher risk of being seen or caught), but either way, this was going to be far more annoying to get through than Steve first thought.

He casts a glance over his shoulder at the route, but at either end they cut off in the distance, neither end leading to anything even Steve could see, and the Captain knew finding his way through here would allow for more likely success in getting what he needs. Steve slowly walks forward towards the building, it almost seemed abandoned, and that thought lulls Steve into a momentary lowering of his defenses; which proved to be the wrong move. Right then he hears a crash and a cry, instinct kicks in, and Steve’s running into the house before he can remember why that was a bad idea. The scream sounded too familiar, far too gut-wrenchingly _familiar_ that Steve knew even if he _had_ been at 110%, he still would have hesitated; it sounded like-

“YOU BASTARD!” Steve froze at the doorway of what appeared to be a nearly abandoned and smashed up bedroom, but all Steve could focus on was the profile of the man hunched over the foot of the torn up bed, “You PROMISED! You promised me that...that’d you wouldn’t leave, you promised- you self-righteous bastard you _promised_....”

“Tony?” Fuck, this was bad, he shouldn’t have spoken— he sees the man freeze, _shit_ ; but how could Steve just do _nothing_ with Tony _right there_ crying? How could he _not_ splinter the wood beneath his fingers as he gripped the doorframe with the need to hold his—

“St...Steve?” There is somewhere between speaking and his internal panic that Tony - _was_ it Tony? - had stood and turned to face him. “Is it really you?”

However, before Steve can speak he has an arm full of far-too-thin Tony Stark, and it _is_ Tony Stark - just not _his_ Tony, Steve didn’t know _how_ he knew, just that he could _feel_ it. _This is going to get confusing,_ Steve thinks with a small inward sigh, still trying to regain brain function while Tony - _that’s too confusing, Anthony? We’re going with Anthony -_ Anthony trembled in his arms. Steve holds Anthony a little tighter, gently stroking the man’s back and coos, hoping to calm him down. Unfortunately, it only seemed to make Anthony cry harder whenever Steve tried to comfort him, so he eventually gave up and just held the smaller man, and that - thankfully - seemed to help. Once Anthony was no longer shaking and gasping for air, Steve pulls back a little to look down at the brunet, taking in his appearance, and not even on his best day would Steve not have actively felt his heart being broken right then.

He knew this Look; Tony Stark had many ‘Looks’, and if you could figure them out - especially the nuanced flinches and stifled smiles - you found yourself the Rosetta Stone to - in Steve’s opinion - the best person to ever exist (only followed by versions of him from other dimensions, apparently). Because apparently, no matter the dimension, Tony Stark’s eyes would always be striking and expressive.

 _‘Or maybe you just know me better than the rest,’_ Tony would always say when Steve commented on his eyes.

“I’m not-” Steve tried, instinct telling him to tell the truth to the man who shares Tony’s face, but his words die off when the bundle in his arms croaks out a broken sob.

“Why did you leave, Steve?” He clings tighter, “why did you have to face Fisk alone? Why didn’ you just _wait_ for me you— you, _stubborn ass?!”_ Anthony started to struggle against him, trembling fists weakly batting against Steve’s broad chest, “Why did you— _why_ Steve?”

Steve didn’t understand what was happening, what Anthony was talking about, but one thing seemed to be true; Anthony Stark had his own Steve Rogers in this world, and had lost him. Steve’s heart almost felt like it was spasming in his chest, he couldn’t imagine losing Tony; Steve couldn’t imagine a life without his Iron Man, without his teammate, best friend, and—

“It’s okay,” Anthony says with a shudder, taking half a step back, “y’er here now, y’er back an’ it’s…it’s okay now,” Steve immediately feels torn, he knows he won’t be here for long if Tony has any say in it, but Anthony thinks _his_ Steve came back from the dead and—

“Anthony I’m not-” once again Steve’s words stop just behind his teeth at a broken sound from Anthony, the smaller man’s hands twitching in their grip of him; it was a devastating sound.

“Not really here,” he breathes, the words were but a whisper, would have been lost in the white noise had it not been for the pin-drop silence in the room. “I…I know that,” he laughs, but it’s a brittle thing - a sound far too close to shattering. “I know this is all in my broken mind, I _promise_ you I _know_ that, Steve. But…but please, Steve, just…just hold me, I _beg_ of you, I’m _half dead_ without you an’ my heart can’t stand it— _it can’t._ Please, just…just give me _somethin’_ to hold on to.”

Something in Steve breaks, right then, something he never thought existed until this very moment; he knows his touch gentles as he pulls Anthony into his chest, its instinctual, it’s the same way he held his first born - with fierce love and protection. A shield against the rest of the world. Steve holds onto Anthony as tightly as the man clings to him, Steve easily lifts him and moves them to the battered cot, and lowers them down onto it. Anthony fits against him just as perfectly as Tony does, if a little sharper at the edges, and smelling of grease and whiskey - _at least he hasn’t stopped working_ , Steve thinks, the optimist in him trying to find a silver lining. There as always hope with Tony Stark if he was still holding on to a wrench, if his mind was still racing with genius, it was when _that_ faded that all was lost - Steve had seen it, once, and it was a terrifyingly heartbreaking thing.

 _There’s still hope,_ the Captain thinks, holding onto the man just a little tighter at the prospect.

Anthony shifts in Steve’s arms, and the blond knows what’s coming before he feels the smaller man’s slightly chapped lips press against his own, and Steve does the one thing he can do; he kisses Anthony back. A part of Steve felt guilty for it, knowing that this man wasn’t really _his_ Tony, but _his_ Tony sought kisses for comfort; for reassurance. Earlier in their friendship, the first time Steve had seen Tony peck Rhodey on the lips resulted in Peter jumping onto the fridge because Steve’s mug suddenly ‘exploded’ in his grip - Clint lost his breakfast because he’d laughed a little too hard, but Natasha and Bucky were no better.

Point is, this wasn’t desire; this was Anthony’s visceral need to be reminded _he wasn’t alone._

Anthony’s hand clutches at the front of Steve’s shirt, his lips warm against the blond’s, and Steve runs his thumb along Anthony’s scruffy jaw in reassurance. It felt like hours later when Anthony’s hands no longer felt rigid against Steve’s jaw, when his trembling began to taper off to little shivers, but Steve was happy that the man finally seemed to relax a little. Steve wouldn’t lie, he felt a little saddened by the loss of Anthony’s gentle lips when they were no longer pressed against his own; however, the delicate but hopeful smile on Anthony’s face was more than worth the loss. The man searches Steve’s face, a wistful smile on his handsome - but so painfully _tired_ \- face, his hands resting on either side of Steve’s, his thumbs lazily map the Captain’s jaw; Tony was always a tactile person, _seems to be true of other versions too._

“I know you ain’t him,” Steve startles at the sudden proclamation, but before he can even open is mouth to speak - honestly clueless as to what he’d say, because it was the _truth,_ after all - Anthony continues, “I don’t know if this is real or I’ve finally lost my mind to drink, but...but I know _my_ Steve is…is gone. Crazy bastard got himself killed because of that damn _heart_ of his, and I miss him more than I thought a person could miss anyone, but I know you ain’t him.”

Steve doesn’t realize he’s begun to cry until Anthony swipes a thumb over his flushed cheek, “I feel like you both have that in common, a big heart,” he says softly, adoringly (almost yearningly), as though to himself. “He stood up to Fisk, but Fisk and his men don’t play fair…Steve was about doin’ it _right_ and…and it got him _killed_ \- got him—”

Steve snatches Anthony into his embrace, trying to calm to swelling tears and choked speech, “Anthony, you don’t have to-”

“I could have stopped it. Steve I…I was passed out _drunk_ in the middl’a the day because I had nightmares about the things I’d done, and because of it- because of _me,_ he’s _dead!_ I tried to get to him, I _tried_ but Natasha held me back, said it was to keep me from gettin’ myself killed, but I hated her for it anyway…we could have _stopped_ him, but instead we stood back until there was nothin’ left because we were all too afraid of Fisk and his men.”

“I’m so sorry To-, _Anthony_ , that’s...that’s _awful,_ ” Steve swallows thickly as he plans out his next words, and softens his grip in case Anthony decides to pull away - Steve would let him go, no matter how much he may not want to, he’d still let him go if Anthony didn’t want to be held by him. Anthony may _say_ he understands that Steve isn’t _his_ Steve, but the Captain knows once he confirms it, the man could easily pull away from him. _Please don’t push me away,_ is all he can think, over and over, and over…

“I’m not him, I’m sorry…but you’re not going crazy. I...I’m just from another reality, or universe…or…or whatever you wanna call it. I was never good at getting that bit straight, I know it sounds crazy, Reed and Tony fight about it all the time; Tony calls it a Multi-verse, the way I understand it is that there are multiple different versions of reality and-” Steve knew he was rambling, but he was nervous, because Anthony was staring at him with this little smile that seemed to boarder on hope and disbelief and he didn’t want it to go away-

“Do you treat him good?” For a moment Steve is taken aback, because _how did he know?_ but then remembers who he’s talking to, “you’re sayin’ you’re from another reality, an’ you look almost _exactly_ like my Steve - take away the beard and change the haircut - so it wouldn’t be much of a leap f’er me to assume that there’s another version of _me_ …. The way you held me, _spoke_ to me it...it wasn’t like my Steve, but I could _feel_ your love anyway, could see and feel how much you loved me - or your world’s version of me, at least. It’s almost as deeply as my Stevie loved me.” Steve feels himself tearing up again, and tries to blink away the warm burn in his eyes.

“So, do you treat him good?” Steve reaches forward and kisses Tony’s head, pulling the man into his arms and lays on his back, - the battered up bed wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but Steve’s a soldier, he’s dealt with worse - and cuddles Anthony close atop his chest. The blond can hear the soft _sniff_ from where Anthony’s tucked his face into the crook of his neck, but this time doesn’t feel it’s out of sadness - or maybe not _only_ sadness.

“We’re married,” Anthony starts upon hearing the words, but Steve gently strokes his back until the man calms from his sputtering surprise, _not legal here, then,_ “in our reality it’s been legal under law for a long time, so we’ve been married for 22 years, but together for about 30 - Tony says it’s been 30, because he counted, but I think it’s been 29 because he was a clueless goose for a solid year.” Anthony clings to Steve but _laughs_ , it’s not bodily, but his shoulders do shake, and the sound warms Steve’s insides like that sound always does - like hot chocolate and a warm fire on a cold winter’s night in the arms of the person you love.

“We have a son named Peter and daughter named Riri,” Anthony holds onto Steve a little tighter but doesn’t say a word, “they can drive us crazy, but we love them, and not to mention all the little rugrats too smart for their own good that we’ve adopted by proxy because Tony really doesn’t ever know when to stop,” Steve can feel the smile tugging at his lips at thoughts of his husband, and gives into the safe and warm feeling; the feeling of _home._

“Tony’s the best thing to have ever happened in my life, apart from our children of course, but I couldn’t imagine my life without him,” Steve turns his head just enough to whisper into Anthony’s hair, “he’s my other half.”

“Thank you,” Anthony whispers, it was a little broken, but stronger than before, “thank you so much.”

Steve doesn’t want to let go of the smaller man just yet, and Anthony seems to be fine being held, so Steve pulls him in a little closer, “are you going to be alright?”

Because that was the real question, wasn’t it? Would Anthony be okay? But what could Steve do if he wasn’t? Live with the guilt of knowing there was a version of his husband out there, a version he _knows personally,_ broken hearted and alone-

“I-” Antony pauses for a moment, holding Steve tighter and breathes out deeply, “yeah I...I’m goin’ to be okay.” Steve hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath, but breathes a sigh of relief, and- okay, yes, may have giggled just a little in his relief.

“He used to do that, too,” Anthony says with a soft chuckle, and Steve still saw the heartbreak in his honey eyes, but there was hope there now, too. “When Steve would get excited or be really relieved, a sigh and then the damndest adorable _giggle_ , I really think it’s the damned smile he had when he did it that had me fallin’ for him…the Sharif hat didn’t hurt either, though.”

Steve’s own smile freezes for a moment, unsure if he was helping or making the situation worse, but Anthony was trying to levity so maybe- suddenly, Anthony barks a laugh and pokes at Steve’s right cheek, “you don’t have a right dimple!”

The Captain’s train of thought comes to an abrupt halt, _what does that even mean-_

“My Steve had both dimples when he smiled,” Anthony chuckled, rolling onto his back, but carefully enough so that he was still in Steve’s embrace; he shuffled around a bit, the way Tony always did when he was feeling tired and restless, and didn’t settle until their legs where entangled and Steve’s arms were securely around him.

“That confirms it, that you’re not him,” Anthony says a little softer this time, his words slower with exhaustion, but it’s less sad, now. “But he would have been happy to know that there was a version of him out there that helped me when I needed him and he couldn’t be here, so…thank you, Steve.”

“Of course, Anthony,” Steve replies and kisses the top the man’s forehead, moving around just enough to pull the slightly itchy duvet out from under him and toss it over their legs.

“How do you plan to get back to y’er fella?” Anthony asks through a yawn, his eyes no longer even open, _he’s just been through a lot, he needs his sleep._

“He’ll find me,” Steve says as he settles in, because he trusted Tony implicitly, and knew Tony would come for him no matter what. “Do you know what your gonna do next?”

“Someone needs to stand up to Fisk,” Anthony’s eyes blink open, and for a moment they’re sharper than they’ve ever been, “no one did before now and Steve paid the price, I can’t let anyone else- _no one else_ is gettin’ hurt because of Fisk, and…” uh-oh, Steve knew that face, “and I think I know how to do it, doggone it! Steve! I know how to take down Fisk!”

Anthony jumps up and out of the bed before Steve can get a word in edge-wise, but pauses when he’s half-way out the door, “shit, Steve I’m sorry but I _have_ to start on this now or-”

“Anthony,” Steve chuckles as he swings his legs off the side of the bed, “I married Tony Stark, I _know_ what that look on your face means. Go, be amazing.”

Anthony’s jaw works for a moment but not sound leaves him, at least not until after he takes a deep breath and fixes Steve with a smile the Avenger doesn’t think he’ll ever forget, “thank you, for everythin’, Steve.”

The brunet is gone before Steve can say anything, but maybe it was for the better, Steve tended to ramble and, really, there wasn’t anything else _to_ say. Anthony seemed like he’d be okay, and if that look told Steve anything, some version of the Iron Man armor was about to be worked on; that look of manic child-like excitement was reserved for the suit and _only_ the suit - and yes, there _have_ been many jokes made about it, according to Kamala Tony and the Suit’s ‘shipname’ was ‘Irony’, and if Steve hadn’t choked on his coffee when she said it, he probably would have laughed for an hour straight. The faint sounds of clanging metal only confirmed his suspicions, but also made him smile, whatever work he had here was done. With a private smile and a silent goodbye, Steve stands and stretches, deciding it’d probably be best to leave before the sun was fully out, and start making some headway before the next nightfall. Maybe Anthony could rational their time together as some kind of lucid-dream, a result of his subconscious is need to finish grieving and lack of proper sleep and nutrition; either way, Steve knew he wouldn’t be of any more help if he stayed.

Pausing at the door frame of the porch, Steve maps out a plan in his head; find the nearest town at whichever end of the trail (there was enough light out to see more clearly now), gather food and shelter, and hole-up until Tony found him. It wouldn’t be fun, but _it’s a solid plan._ Stepping back out onto the porch for the second time in less than 24 hours, Steve takes a deep breath and presses forward and- promptly falls flat on his face…on reinforced stainless panel flooring; on reinforced stainless panel flooring that he’s _seen_ before! _Wait when-_

“YOU’RE BACK!” The dual screams of his teenage children have Steve on his feet faster than even _he_ thought he could move, but thankfully just fast enough to catch two gangly teens as they flung themselves at him.

“Dad was flippin’ out! And called uncle Bruce-” Riri quickly began to explain, but was overlapped by Peter, who, at the same time as his sister, decided to tell their father what happened since he was gone.

“-and Dad even called Mr. Strange! And _-”_

“-we helped _obviously,_ and found out you walked in just when Dad’s experiment-”

“-went haywire! And you got caught in the blast, because it effective JARVIS is CPU processors pretty badly and-”

“-that was a _nightmare_ to fix! Pops you have _no idea_ how many times I was about to murder Peter because he kept butting in-”

“-hey! I only ‘kept butting in’ because you _asked_ for my help! And-”

“Okay, okay you two mad scientists, how about we gives your Pops space? Y’know since he just bounced his fine tush back from another reality?” Steve isn’t sure how his smile widens, but it does as he whips his head around to look over his shoulder as Tony - as _his_ Tony - comes up behind them. “Now scat’, unless you wanna watch me kiss your Pops-”

Both teens were gone before Tony even finished speaking.

“-thought so, works every time,” Iron Man says with a chuckle, before turning on his husband and yanking him in for a kiss. “And _you,_ you _never_ scare me like that again, do you understand me, Steven Grant Rogers?”

“If I can help it,” Steve says, pulling his husband close, hands gently stroking at the waistband of Tony’s tattered jeans.

“I’ll take it,” they both knew nothing in their lives was promised, that being superheroes meant risking everything to save everything else, but right here and now they had each other and that was all that mattered.

Steve didn’t hesitate to kiss Tony back to the moment the smaller man leaned forward, but he knew he had some explaining to do when Tony stilled, and then pulled away with a confused expression.

“Why do you taste like super strong whiskey?” Tony had relatively quit drinking, limiting himself to a single celebratory gland of champagne, but didn’t mind it if his husband drank - though Steve never really cared for the taste and rarely did. However, the question was valid, and one Steve was still trying to figure out how to answer - one he thought he’d have a little more _time_ to figure out how to answer. “Were you sent to Asgard? _Did you let Loki feed you meed again?!_ ”

“No, no I wasn’t sent to Asgard, which you likely know since you’re the one who brought me back,” Steve tales his husband’s hands into his own, taking a deep breath before asking, “we promised full honesty, right?” and watched with a heavy heart as his husband’s relief at having him back was slowly morphing into apprehension and confusion.

“…right?” Tony says back, slowly, like he isn’t sure if he wan’t to hear the answer just yet.

“Tony I…” Steve didn’t regret his decision to kiss Anthony, he _needed_ it and it was out of comfort, Tony would _understand_ that especially given he circumstances, but - for a terrifying moment - Steve wonders _what if he doesn’t? “_ I kissed another version of you, Tony.” There’s a dreadful pause, and Steve thinks his husband is about to pull away in disgust, that he’d just ruined his _marriage_ , but even now - after all these years - Tony still surprises him.

When he takes a step forward, smirking like a scheming child and says, “spill.”

“It’s not…it’s not what you think, sweetheart,” Steve mumbles, almost to himself as he thought about how sad and lonely Anthony had been, but the next moment his husband had his arms around Steve and tucked his head under his scruffy chin.

“Tell me, babe, it might help,” Tony encourages, but continues on after kissing the top of Steve’s head, “or don’t, and we can just go upstairs to get you food and then to bed.”

The prospect of a meal, a hot shower, and sleep with _his_ Tony seemed amazing, but he knew why Tony was asking him to share; secrets never weighed well on Steve’s conscious, and so, he told him. Everything. Tony just about clings to his husband, but Steve doesn’t mind because he holds onto Tony just as tightly. However, Steve knew Tony’s sniffs and hiccups about his short time with Anthony was overshadowed by the prospect of facing what Anthony had; losing Steve. He knew, because if the roles had been reversed, Steve would have been a far worse sobbing mess.

Steve doesn’t stop in his retelling of his time in the alternate reality, wanting to get to the better bits, and to also just stop talking and kiss his husband and forget about ever losing the man holding him. He listens to Tony softly hiccup and sniff as he speaks, the sight of his husband crying would always break his heart, but Steve remembered when they’d first gotten together; when he’d walked in on Tony crying in the kitchen after a mission gone wrong. Steve remembered how it almost scared him how silent Tony was while crying, but he wasn’t like that anymore, he cried a little more freely now, and in a strange way Steve was happier for it.

“-then I walked out of the porch and just about broke my face on the floor,” Steve finishes with a long breath, trying to steady his racing heart before looking up at where Tony stands between his legs. “Tony I-”

“No, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” Tony quickly cuts in, wiping at his damp cheeks, “hell, _thank you_ , thank you so much for doing that. I know it’s strange, but I just…I don’t know, you helped someone Steve; helped _me_ , well another version of me, but another version of me that lost _you_ and...he was right, I’d be half dead without you, Stevie.

“But if I _did_ lose you, and got the chance to have you back, even if just for a moment, I’d be enterally grateful,” Steve tears up and surges up to kiss Tony - _his_ Tony; his _husband._

“I love you, Tony, I love you so much,” Steve says and _keeps_ saying between kisses and giggles - on both their ends, no matter how much Tony denies it, he was giggling too.

“Hey auntie Nat was wondering if- NO! Gross! Nope! Nopenopenope-” Steve could have pulled away before their daughter walked in on her parents acting like love sick teenagers, but what parent would pass up a chance to embarrass their kids?

“I think we should head up before Nat uses this as an excuse to order one of everything again,” Tony says with a beaming smile and musical chuckle, darting forward to steal kiss.

“I mean, would what be so bad? It left enough for leftovers for Peter and Ned to take to their roleplaying thingy, I think they packed some for MJ and Kamala too,” Steve counters, grinning just as goofily, playfully pulling Tony into him as he moves to stand.

“That’s true…maybe a few more minutes, then? I mean you _were_ gone a whole day-”

“Wait, wait, wait, a _day?!”_ Steve splutters, trying to work out how that worked, “I was there for less than a full night-”

“-jumping through the multi-verse is weird, _I’m_ still trying to figure it out. _Anyway,_ what do you think, ten minutes?”

Steve shakes his head and decides to let the topic go, for now, anyway, “I think twenty.”

“You heard that, J?”

“I’ve informed Ms. Romanov,” the A.I. replies a few moments later, and even as just a bunch of ones and zeros, JARVIS was more than certain his inventor and the Captain don’t hear him when he adds, “but she says she knows you’re going to be late, and will therefore just order one of everything to be, as she says, ‘safe’.”

Steve is vaguely aware that they’ll probably be stuffed on Vietnamese food for the next few days, but he can’t bring himself to care when Tony moans beneath him on the workshop’s couch, surging up to kiss his husband of so many years (and hopefully so many years more) and whisper words of adoration against his lips. Steve knew he’d think about Anthony and worry every now and again, but he knew to have faith in the conviction he’d heard in Anthony’s voice, to show the same faith in Anthony that Steve does in his husband; to never stop believing in him. And Anthony seemed like he was only just getting started. On the other hand, his time with Anthony made Steve grateful to have this perfect alien-invading-superheroing-life of theirs, with their wonderfully smart and sassy teenagers, and a husband that was his soulmate in every universe; because Anthony had been right, losing Tony _would_ _be_ like losing part of himself, because Tony was a part of Steve’s soul, and he would spend eternities in every universe with this man.

“I love you, Tony,” Steve whispers against the genius is neck, flushed and exposed from having his head thrown back, inviting more of the Captain’s wandering kisses, “in this universe and every other one.”

“Well you _did_ make out with the cowboy version of me, so I believe that,” Tony snarks back, but his sarcasm is undercut by the fondness in his voice, “but I get the sentiment, which is sweet, and cheesy as hell, so how about you just shut up and kiss me, Captain?”

“You’re insufferable,” Steve harrumphs, but has a smile on his lips as he presses another, deeper, kiss to Tony’s kiss-reddened lips.

“Oh, and Steve? We’re getting you a Stetson.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this story, the idea was bouncing around in my head for a while; it's sad but hopeful (I feel), at least that's what I was aiming for haha! I kinda had the idea that it was set (for those who've read the comic, so SPOILER WARNING for those who haven't!) after Tony is at the 'Vision of the Future' fortune teller box, but before he starts building the armor - which I realize is pretty soon after Earth-51920 Steve died, but we all know how tragedy tends to make Tony work-crazy, and at least this time he's doing it with a bit more hope!  
> xxoxoo


End file.
